GW- Next Genereation (ack, corny working title)
by Lavander
Summary: It's the year after colony 218 and the Gundam pilots have all settled down and had children. But a new threat has overcome the galaxy. Prolouge. Please Read and Review.


GW, the next Generation (working title)

By: Lavander Blues and Psycho Mulder Chick

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or anything related to the animated series or manga. 

A/N: This is only the prologue of a long story to come, one of my firsts ever. It will take a while for me to get parts up for it, and until PMC and I can get a joint account, we will only have parts under my name, unless she would like to post some parts too. This story is based on the Gundam pilots children and the new founded Organization called "Neo-Oz." Please read, enjoy and review. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Prologue

So I'm late for class again. Who cares? … Besides my father and the people he pays to watch me everyday. So what if I've tried to run away… twice. Colonies do get boring after a while, ya know. Living on them for 15 years of your life is even worse. Especially with the same people kissing you ass day after day, though that does have its advantages, same with coming from the richest family this side of the universe.

Who am I, you ask? Well, the one, the only, Quatrine Rebecca Winner, but my friends call me Kat… if I had any, that is. I'm not much like my father, well, maybe a tad, but still not much. We both love peace and I guess I look like him quite a bit, which is good, because who would want to have my mothers eyebrows. I mean, ew!

I guess I'm quite the spoiled brat… at least that is what my dad tells me… and my mom… and Rashid… and Abdul… and my teachers… and… well, you get the point. Anyway, on this boring day:

It was a day like any other. I got up, got ready for school, went to school, and was, obviously… late. I ran into my first class, which just happened to be tech, where we learned how to build and program small robots, and learned about random mobile suits which once dominated the past, such as those dreadful Gundams and their pilots. Today, we were going to learn about my favorite Gundam of design and build, Sandrock, and its other models. I walked into the classroom, just as my teacher, Mrs. Peacecraft (don't ask, I don't know), started taking attendance . She went through the list, finally coming to my name:

"Ms. Winner, you're late again I see." She pointed out.

"Sorry, Mrs. Peacecraft," I replied, thinking _how the HELL does she do that?!?! _I must have looked surprised, because she sort of smiled at me as if she was laughing in her head. She went through the rest of the attendance and got right on to our lesson for the day.

It was interesting, learning about how Sandrock and Sandrock Custom was designed, piloted, and how everything worked, everything from the Heat Shortels right down to the feet. But unlike all the other Mobile Suits, she wouldn't tell us anything about the designers or the pilot. I was dying to know, because I wanted to meet all the pilots. I went up to her right after class and asked her about it.

"So... Mrs. Peacecraft, being my favorite teacher and…" I started.

"What do you want, Ms. Winner?" she interjected, giving me a look.

"Who was the pilot of the Gundam, Sandrock is…" I started again.

"I can't give that information out, it's classified." She interrupted me, yet again. She interrupted _me._ I must have had a look on my face that said: I'm the Winner kid, I deserve to know, because she added, "As in the pilot does not want _anyone_ to know who he was."

"Why would he wanna do that?" I asked, innocently.

"Who knows…" she replied, rolling her eyes at me. She was rolling her eyes at _me_, of all people! "Look, I can't tell you, because that person doesn't want you or anyone, as a matter of fact, to know who he once was, out of fear of acceptation for he now is."

"So, no one knows who he is…" I asked, just as and afterthought.

"Yes, that's right," she answered, looking at me suspiciously.

"Not even any of his comrades?" I asked.

"Well…" she started.

"Thanks, that's all I needed to know!" I said, running out of the room before she could say anything else.

***

After school that day, I went home and looked up the address for Heero Yuy, the Pilot of Wing Gundam on my computer. I came up with fifty matches, but have no idea how. I sent a little message to each one of them, asking for the Gundam pilot, and about fifteen minutes later I got my reply:

"What do you want?"

That's all it said. Did this guy even _know_ who he was _talking to?_ Well, no, because my dad makes me use alias when talking to people on the net. I replied:

"I can't tell you who I really am, because you might hunt me down and kill me, so I was wondering, who piloted the Gundam Sandrock?"

I reread what I wrote, and thought it was perfect, so I sent it away. While I was waiting for a reply I left to get a snack and came back to my room to find my father reading _my messages_! Do you know how unnerving it is to find on of _your_ parents butting into _your_ personal life?

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" I cried, startling him

"Ah! Oh, Kat, it's just you…" he said, looking at me. "So your teachers finally taught you about Sandrock and Sandrock Custom.

"Yeah… Hey, wait a minute!" I said, clueing in. "You said you didn't know what the Gundams were called!!"

"I guess I should finally tell you." He sort of got out between a sigh.

"Yeah, you better start talking!" I said interjecting. He gave me the look. I just glared back, because I hated him at the moment for going through my personal life. He sighed and was about to speak when my computer beeped, telling me I had another reply. I pushed him out of the way, and sat at my computer. The reply said this:

"Well, Ms. Winner, the pilot for Sandrock and Sandrock Custom was your father."

I looked at the computer screen, face blank. Then I looked at my father. I did this for about 5 minutes or so, thinking "**WHAT THE F***!!!!**" I typed back:

"Haha, really funny. And how did you know who I am? The day I believe my father was a Gundam pilot is the day **Hell freezes over**."

Then I turned to my dad after I sent it and glared at him some more. He just kind of read the message, then looked at me, flabbergasted.

"So you don't believe him?" He asked.

"Well, obviously not." I replied snottily, getting up from my chair.

"Why not?" He asked, yet another stupid question.

"Because it not possible right?" I asked back, looking at him. He looked blank, like he was thinking about how to tell me.

"You aren't kidding, are you?" I asked, in disbelief. He nodded his head.

"Oh my god, that is _not possible_! My father, the peace-loving freak was a Gundam pilot." I said, almost too quietly to be heard.

"Well, I was." He replied.

"_My father_ was a Gundam pilot!" I said, being a little louder.

"Yes," he answered.

"_MY FATHER, _Quatre Raberba Winner, was a f***ing GUNDAM PILOT!!!" I cried as loudly as I could.

"Yes, and watch you mouth." He said, calmly.

"Mom!" I called, not listening to my dad, "Dad is telling lies again!"

My mother walked into my room. She was actually quite beautiful, except for the eyebrows, which reminded me of Treize Khushrenada, the dead former leader of OZ. She had once tried to shave the top part off, but it looked worse than before. Now she just dyed them to be the colour of her hair. She looked at me weird, then stared at my father.

"What is he lying about?" she asked, still staring at him.

"That he was a Gundam pilot." I said, matter-of-factly.

"Well, what makes you think he wasn't." She asked me, with a raised eyebrow.

"That the only thing he actually stands for is peace." I replied, getting a little doubtful. My mother had an amazing ability to prove me wrong.

"And what are the Gundams a symbol of?" she asked, like she was my teacher or something.

"Pea… oh… my… God…" I said very quietly, before passing out cold on the floor. From then on, my life just got weirder and weirder.


End file.
